


Halite, Crystals, and Minerals

by allislaughter



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Episode: Catspaw, Episode: The Man Trap, Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-15 11:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/849263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allislaughter/pseuds/allislaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McCoy was a marvel in the medical world. He could heal nearly any wound and find a cure for nearly any illness. He once joked that he could even cure a rainy day, but to be fair, he wouldn’t doubt it. He used advanced equipment, the standard hyposprays and medical tricorders. However, some of his equipment was not the standard you’d expect...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i

McCoy was a marvel in the medical world. He could heal nearly any wound and find a cure for nearly any illness. He once joked that he could even cure a rainy day, but to be fair, he wouldn’t doubt it. He used advanced equipment, the standard hyposprays and medical tricorders. However, some of his equipment was not the standard you’d expect.

Salt shakers.

Various metal shakers with colored bottoms to denote what salt did what healing. There were little whirls and gizmos that played a little tune familiar to others as the sound of modern medical equipment at work. But it was just show. It was all salt.

But, dammit, did it ever work. McCoy was more than just a doctor, he was a healer, a being who had the right magic at his beck and call to get the result he wanted. No one ever noticed him slip some salt in a patient’s wound and call up the right enchantment to mend the cut instead of let it sting as one would expect. No one ever managed to see him create new medicines using salt as the base and still manage to save them all from a strange illness. Confirming that the medicine would work was just standard protocol. When push came to shove and they didn’t have time for that confirmation, he proved it worked by using it on himself.

Salt was his medium and with it he could bring out the sun and dry up all the rain if he so chose.

It was in fact magic, no lie about that. Aversion to the truth, certainly. If anyone discovered him using magic as a doctor for the common folk, he’d hate to see what would happen. He had constant nightmares of persecution from those who had distrust in magic and it’s abilities. Burnings at the stake were all so passé at that point in time, but then again, on some of the more primitive planets, he wouldn’t doubt the possibility.

It wasn’t like he conjured up demons in his spare time (truth be told, they wouldn’t touch him because of his salt), and healing magic was quite the opposite of the dark arts. However, he couldn’t risk anyone finding out.

He was only lucky that the one person to discover his methods was also the least likely to believe it was true. Spock, that logical hobgoblin (and he’d know how appropriate of a nickname this was; he had encountered actual hobgoblins before), had no belief in magic and specifically denied that McCoy utilized charms and minerals for their healing properties instead of modern day equipment.

He couldn’t tell if it was willful ignorance or, by some stroke of good fortune, that Spock was actually covering for him. Either way, McCoy was free to do his service as a doctor, healing people through his methods, salt shakers and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost forgot to mention: The idea behind McCoy using salt as a magical medium is that some of the props for the medical equipment McCoy used were actually salt shakers. Combined with the joke between me and my friends that McCoy uses magic, this story happened. Thank you for reading this first chapter and I hope you continue through to the end.


	2. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter heavily references the episode "The Man Trap". References will carry over into later chapters. Enjoy~.

Sometimes he thought about Nancy and the M-113 facsimile of her. The incident at M-113 was an insult to his art on top of heartbreaking. Finding out that those crewmen had died from being drained of the salt in their bodies, the very thing McCoy normally would use to save them, was a painful irony. That creature had the perfect opportunity to kill him as well. Did it somehow know that he had a constant supply of salt he could give it?

And what good would that have done them when the creature had killed so many already, including crewmen, Dr. Carter, and Nancy herself? Jim saw it as a danger and taunted it, and Spock insisted that McCoy shoot it. The creature had been trying to survive, and he could understand its need for salt due to his constant use of it. If they had fed it...

If they had fed it, if he had all the salt in the universe, it still wouldn’t make up for the lives it had taken. All the same, he was a doctor. He was supposed to heal, not kill, and this creature was the last of its kind. He had caused the end of a species.

Logically, without a proper mate to reproduce with, the species would have ended had the creature died from natural causes, Spock had told him.

But, somehow, actually being the cause makes it different, McCoy had pointed out.

Doctor, is that really your concern? McCoy wondered why he was playing out this conversation again.

Dammit, Spock... It was Nancy. It was Nancy when I killed it.

Doctor, you know that it was never Nancy.

But it _was_ Spock. Even if it wasn’t, I shouldn’t have killed it. I’m a doctor, not a murderer.

The kill had been in self-defense and for the good of the crew. Might I remind you that the creature had killed plenty of people itself by that point in time?

I could have still helped it. We could have just given it salt. I had damn well enough to last until we could take it to some uninhabited planet of salt licks.

You are being unreasonable. If I may, your attachment to this creature due to your belief it was Nancy, while illogical, is expected. However, your preoccupation seems to extend further due to your supposed use of salt.

Well... I use salt to heal. If it meant helping the thing and preventing more deaths, I could have given it plenty.

You believe that you could have “healed” it through your preferred medium. That voice wasn’t Spock’s but rather his personal thoughts. You keep replaying the scenes because you could have prevented all the deaths if you used your medium sooner.

McCoy had asked God to forgive him that day because he saw the irony between his medium and what the creature had been after the entire time. Because he saw that he could have saved all those people, including the creature, if he had used his medium in time. Because he felt that it wasn’t just the life of the creature on his hands, but Nancy’s, Dr. Carter’s, and the rest of the crew.


	3. iii

“Bones, you’re looking stressed this evening.” Jim sat next to him at dinner, as usual. He stabbed a wedge of potato with his fork and then offered it to McCoy. “Potato for your thoughts?”

“Get that out of my face,” McCoy answered, his playful jibe coming off more harshly than he intended. “Sorry, Jim, I was just thinking...”

“Of...?” Jim encouraged.

“Do you remember what happened back at M-113?”

“How could I forget?” He chuckled. “That creature almost killed me and you saved the day.”

McCoy frowned and Jim soon caught his serious attitude. “Did I really, Jim? And just how many deaths were there?”

Jim shook his head. “Bones, none of that was your fault. Why accept responsibility for something you had no control over?”

“I just...” McCoy absentmindedly grabbed the salt shaker- a normal white one, the kind people recognized as a salt shaker- turning it in his hand. “You’re right. It makes no damned sense. Yet, I can’t get it out of my head.”

“But that was months ago,” Jim pointed out. “Why are you bringing it up now?”

“How’s our supply of salt?” he asked. He could tell that Jim thought the question was out of nowhere, but he didn’t care.

“Sufficient,” Spock answered, joining their table. “Doctor, I had thought your concerns about M-113 had subsided.”

McCoy frowned, not bothering to look up at Spock. “They had. But, I’ve just been thinking back on it...”

“Gotta let it go, Bones,” Jim assured him, shaking his head. “Now, are you actually going to use that salt, or can I have a turn with it?”

“Huh?” He glanced down at his hand. Embarrassed, he passed the salt over to Jim and watched him sprinkle some onto his food.

Suddenly, from across the room, one of the ensigns shrieked. They were on their feet in an instant and hurried over to see what’s wrong.

“Stewart was eating some of my salad and he suddenly stopped breathing!” the ensign cried.

McCoy took a glance at the salad. “Dammit, there’s tree nuts in there! Stewart’s allergic to tree nuts! Quick, where’s his epinephrine?” McCoy felt Stewart’s pockets and cursed when he found nothing. “Dammit, he knows he’s supposed to carry it with him!”

“Doctor, we need to hurry that man to Sickbay,” Spock insisted.

“He could die in the time it takes to get there!” McCoy argued. He didn’t give a single moment for hesitation and grabbed the salt shaker from the table. Everyone stared as he muttered an incantation and forced Stewart’s mouth open, sprinkling the salt onto his tongue.

Almost instantly, Stewart began to breathe again. McCoy helped him up and looked at Spock, motioning for him to help.

“NOW, we have to hurry him to Sickbay.”

Spock nodded and helped McCoy carry Stewart.

“Bones?” Jim asked as they were leaving.

“Not now, Jim!” McCoy snapped at him. He and Spock left. The questions would have to be answered later.


	4. iv

Jim had the courtesy of bringing McCoy and Spock fresh meals to make up for their forgotten ones from the emergency. “So. Stewart.” Jim waited a moment and received no reply. “Well, how is he?”

“Resting and going to get an earful about forgetting his epinephrine once he wakes up,” McCoy declared. “Really, these people seem to think they’re invincible sometimes. They know how easy it is to die yet they think ‘oh, it could never happen to me’.”

“Hmm.” Jim sat down and waited for Spock and McCoy to start eating. “Say, Bones, would you like some salt?” He held up the salt shaker from before, grinning all the while.

McCoy choked on his food but was able to dislodge it from his throat. “Dammit Jim! Of all the ways to broach the subject!”

“What’s the story behind it?” Jim asked, setting the salt shaker down. “I take it Mr. Spock knows?”

Spock looked affronted, or McCoy assumed he would if Spock weren’t a Vulcan. “I had not believed Doctor McCoy when he told me of the nature of his usage of salt. However, after examining the facts, I can find no logical explanation for it.”

“Then what’s the illogical explanation?”

McCoy grinned, though it was a thin mask for his worry. “Magic.”

Jim stared. “Bones, now is not the time for jokes.”

“Who’s joking?”

“Magic?” Jim repeated. “As in hocus pocus? Witchcraft?”

He gave Jim a look. “Well, you don’t need to sound so disbelieving.”

“This isn’t really something that’s easy to believe.”

Sighing, McCoy nodded. “Yes, hocus pocus witchcraft.”

“But... How?”

He retrieved his medical pouch and pulled out his various salt shakers. “Salt. All of these. Most of them are already imbued with the right spell to take care of the common things, but some are open to spells for uncommon occurrences. It’s something I learned to work with years ago, on top of regular medical studies.”

“And you used it to save that ensign’s life,” Jim clarified. “Presumably the lives of others as well?”

McCoy nodded. “Yes.”

“Well. If it works, then by all means use it.”

He jolted a bit. “What? That’s it?”

Jim smiled, clearly amused. “Why, Doctor, what more are you expecting?”

“Criticism. Skepticism. Displeasure.” McCoy frowned and decided to replace that foot in his mouth with his food.

“I take it that’s why you tried to keep it under wraps?” Jim asked. He shook his head. “I see nothing wrong with it, since it’s not like you’re harming people. If you want, I’ll keep quiet. But, you know, there were plenty of people in that mess hall...”

McCoy sighed and leaned back. “Don’t remind me. Spock, what are the chances that nobody saw that?”

Spock raised his eyebrow. “Considering that the Captain himself has revealed that he has seen it, the chance is plainly zero.”

“The question was rhetorical,” McCoy snapped in response.

“Doctor, it is quite illogical to ask a question that you don’t want answered.”

“Spock,” Jim asked, “how did you find out about McCoy’s magic in the first place?”

“Well, Captain...”

_Spock had somehow managed to catch a virus which was the Vulcan equivalent of the human common cold. He anticipated his immune system taking care of the virus on its own and so did not bother with medical attention. It was a minor affliction and no use wasting time and medical resources on it, especially since it was not contagious as there were no other Vulcans on the ship._

_However, the illness got worse to the point that Doctor McCoy noticed his symptoms and insisted on examining him. As they found out, the virus adapted to Spock’s unique half-Vulcan physiology, making it more difficult for his body to take care of it on its own._

_“You green-blooded hobgoblin,” McCoy chastised. “You should have told me you were sick sooner! It would be hell of a lot easier to cure back when it wasn’t a new strain of virus.”_

_“It seems I made an error in my calculations for recovery time,” Spock answered calmly. “I apologize.”_

_McCoy rolled his eyes. “Well, now I have to look into this and make a new cure. Stay still, I need to get a sample of the virus.”_

_When McCoy went to research a cure, Spock stood up to follow him. McCoy stopped in his tracks and turned to face him, eyebrow quirked._

_“And where do you think you are going?”_

_“Doctor, you will find a cure sooner with my help.”_

_“Not when you’re sick. Get back in bed.”_

_“Doctor, I insist...”_

_“No!”_

_And so it went until McCoy gave in when Spock pointed out the time they were wasting by arguing. Sometime later, during the creation of the cure, Spock watched from the corner of his eye as McCoy tried to pull out a small container unnoticed. McCoy poured a portion of the contents into the mixture he was working with, muttering random syllables that did not form words in any language Spock knew._

_“Doctor,” Spock spoke up, turning towards McCoy. “Perhaps you have been awake for too long?”_

_McCoy glanced to him and set down the container, trying to mask that he had been holding it. “What makes you say that?”_

_“You appear to have been uttering random syllables.” Spock watched McCoy, seeing the man’s mouth pull tight. “Perhaps you need some rest.”_

_“I know what I’m doing, Spock,” the doctor insisted._

_He quirked an eyebrow but knew he would not get more from McCoy from that angle. “What is that component that you added?” he queried._

_“Does it matter as long as it works?” McCoy asked in turn._

_“Doctor, if it works, then it is a standard medicinal addition and logically you would then not be so opposed to revealing what it is.”_

_McCoy paused but then let out a small sigh. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”_

_“I see no reason for you to lie.”_

_There was no answer. Spock reached for the container McCoy had been working with, watching for any sign of protest. He receive none and examined the contents._

_“Halite,” he observed. “More commonly known as rock salt. Doctor, I don’t believe this compound would help against this strain of virus.”_

_“Shut it, Spock. I know what I’m doing. See?” McCoy showed Spock the sample medicine and its affect on the sample virus strain extracted from Spock. Strangely, the cure seemed to be working marvelously._

_Spock quirked his eyebrow again. “Fascinating. However, I’m afraid I don’t understand. How is it that rock salt can be the proper ingredient for this cure to work.”_

_“Magic,” McCoy muttered._

_“Doctor?” Spock asked to clarify._

_“Magic, Spock,” McCoy repeated. “I’m not just a doctor, I’m a Healer. I use salt and magic to cure people.”_

_“Doctor, the concept of magic is illogical. There must be some scientific explanation...”_

_“Well there isn’t, so shut up and wait for me to load this hypospray so you can get rid of that nasty cold.”_

_After that, Spock paid close attention to the different medical equipment McCoy used and, upon closer examination, noted that many of them were salt shakers. He attempted to research the medicinal properties of salt, but the results did not explain the effects McCoy was able to derive from them._

“And, as we observed earlier, Doctor McCoy managed to clear Ensign Stewart’s airway using salt and an incantation alone,” Spock concluded. “From what I can find, there is no scientific explanation.”

“So it really is magic then,” Jim observed. “Hocus pocus.”

“And I’d appreciate it if you would keep this from the rest of the crew.” McCoy sighed and shook his head. “I don’t even know how I’m going to explain it to the ones who saw what I did...”

“Let me take care of that,” Jim answered, patting McCoy on the shoulder. He got up and left before either McCoy or Spock could question just what he was going to do.

They found out later when between the two of them, Spock and McCoy counted at least 30 different explanations the rest of the crew was given for what McCoy had done.

“Well, with this many rumors, it’ll take a while before the cat’s out of the bag for the real reason,” McCoy had to admit.

Spock looked up at him. “Doctor, there is a 15.5% increase in the chance someone else will find out the truth the longer you continue to use your ‘magic’.”

He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you suggest, Mr. Spock? You’re not asking me to just stop using salts altogether, are you? I may know standard medical practices, but salt gets better results, especially in emergencies.”

“If I may... I would like to study your process and attempt to come up with a scientific reason for how it works. With that reason found, your magic could be considered a proper medical practice and you would not have to hide it.”

McCoy stared for a moment and then dropped his arms. “I don’t know what to tell you, Spock. It’s magic. I doubt you’ll find whatever you’re looking for.”

“More surprising things have happened.”

He smiled a bit but still shook his head. “Even so, I can’t let you. Not right now anyway. I may change my mind in the future.”

“Understood.” Spock focused on his work again and McCoy watched him for a moment longer.

“Good night, Spock,” McCoy said at last, heading out the door.

“Doctor McCoy,” Spock said in acknowledgement, letting McCoy leave.


	5. v

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter heavily references the episode "Catspaw". References will carry on into later chapters. Enjoy~.

McCoy was in the middle of a drink when Jim stopped by to talk to him. Given what they just encountered a few days ago on Pyris VII, McCoy had been expecting the conversation.

“What can I do you for, Jim?” McCoy asked, pouring another glass for the captain. He knew why the man was there, but he wanted to keep the conversation open to other topics.

“Back on Pyris VII...” No such luck, it seemed. “Sylvia described it as sympathetic magic...”

Jim trailed off leaving McCoy free reign to pick up the conversation. He frowned, shrugging for what it’s worth. “What do you want? An opinion, an explanation?”

“Either. Both.” Jim sat down and took the drink he was offered. “Start with the explanation.”

“Well, sympathetic magic isn’t one I’m comfortable with,” he started. “Ever hear of voodoo dolls, Jim? You take something that is similar, sympathetic, towards something else, and whatever you do to the object affects the actual thing. It can be used for good, but more often to cause harm, like we saw.”

“So...” Jim glanced up at him, making eye contact. “Your opinion would be that they _were_ using sympathetic magic?”

McCoy shook his head. “Something damn near close. ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’”

“Clarke’s third law,” Jim pointed out.

“Right,” he agreed. “You said the transmuter was used to amplify their mind, right? And everything that happened they pulled from our subconscious or did through sympathetic objects. They had the right idea, and using some fancy gizmo doesn’t make it appear any less magical.”

“But is it magic or isn’t it?”

“Jim, if you’re looking for an easy yes or no, I can’t give you that.” McCoy brought his drink to his lips. “After all, I’m still trying to figure that out for myself.”

There was a long pause before Jim decided to speak up again. “Well, then, Bones. I talked to Scotty and Sulu and they gave similar stories of what Sylvia did to gain control over them. I expect the same from you, but did you talk with her at all?”

“Well if that’s not a story in itself,” McCoy muttered. He set down his glass and leaned back. “After you and Spock left...”

_“You understand, don’t you, Doctor?” If it wasn’t obvious that Sylvia had been the cat from that crystal dangling around her neck, then that purr in her voice would be the clue. “I can read it in your mind that you have some magic of your own.”_

_McCoy folded his hands behind his back. “Ma’am, just who is pulling the strings around here? You or Korob?”_

_Sylvia frowned at him and Korob gave her a look, the same question clear on his mind. “Doctor McCoy,” Sylvia tried again. “Why don’t you tell us about your magic and we’ll tell you more about ours?”_

_“My dear, a magician doesn’t reveal his secrets.”_

_“I see no reason to be so difficult,” she snapped at him._

_“I use healing magic, not sympathetic magic,” McCoy snapped in return. “The salt of the Earth as the cure for all ailments.” He nodded towards the two of them. “But, you use your own crystals in your ‘magic’, don’t you?”_

_Sylvia grabbed the crystal she was wearing. “Enough. If you will not tell us what we want to know, then you will help us get information from your dear captain.”_

“And the next thing I knew, I was in a rocky wasteland meeting up with you and the others.” McCoy answered with a nod.

“That’s...” Jim gave McCoy an unsatisfied look. “That’s not as much of a story as you led me to believe.”

McCoy glanced up, struggling over his words. “Well, I... I may have summarized it a bit, but the basic story is still there.”

“Fair enough,” Jim sighed. “And you’re certain there is nothing else of importance to tell me?”

“If I think of something, I’ll let you know.”

“Alright.” Jim set down his empty glass and stood up. “I’ll talk to you later, Bones.”

“Night, Jim.” With the captain gone, McCoy felt it safe to open up a drawer of his desk. He rifled through some of the contents, always amazed how tangled everything could get so easily. He managed to pull out just the thing he was looking for and examined it in the light.

“Doctor, I-.” Spock walked in suddenly and it was clear McCoy had not been quick enough to hide the object by the eyebrow quirk Spock sent his way. “Doctor, is that the crystal Sylvia wore on Pyris VII? How did you manage to obtain that?”

McCoy grimaced. “Well, Spock, magic attracts magic.”

“I thought it had been determined that the transmuter was an advanced form of technology. Furthermore, I thought all evidence of the Ornithoid lifeforms’ illusions had vanished when Captain Kirk destroyed Korob’s transmuter.”

“To be honest, I thought so too,” McCoy answered, holding out the crystal for Spock to examine. “Imagine my surprise when I found that tucked away into my medkit as soon as we were back on the Enterprise. They called it both science and magic, so either it’s one attributed as the other, or a combination of both, but I can’t figure it out for the life of me.”

Spock took the crystal and turned it over in his hands, then holding it up to the light to see through it. “Doctor, I have been looking into the legends of Earth about magic and various concepts...”

“I noticed,” McCoy answered with an annoyed look. “Something about animal familiars being sent by Satan to serve wizards?”

“Are you saying the that the legends are incorrect?”

“Aren’t most legends?” McCoy questioned in return. “There’s always more to it than people think, and if it’s something people can’t explain, they often want to describe it as something evil. That’s why I’m so worried about people finding out that I use magic. Never quite know who would be accepting and who wouldn’t.”

“I understand your concern, Doctor, but I must remind you of my previous point...”

“Of finding a scientific explanation for my magic?” McCoy finished for him. “I’m not sure what you’d find, but... I suppose there’s no harm in conducting a few studies. Hell, it might even be useful in teaching a new generation back home if we had a better understanding of how it works.”

Spock nodded and gave the crystal back to McCoy. “However, Doctor, I am concerned of the reasons that crystal appeared in your possession. Do you even have any use for it with the main transmuter destroyed?”

“Well, we’ll find out, won’t we, Mr. Spock?” McCoy put the crystal around his neck and then tucked it into his shirt. “In the meantime, it’s late. Perhaps we should get some sleep.”

“Very well, Doctor.”


	6. vi

They got Jim in on the studies soon after that. Whenever he had an injury of some sort, which happened quite often considering how reckless Jim was on landing parties, McCoy was first on call to heal him, and Spock was close at hand to take observations and record data on McCoy’s process.

Jim winced and McCoy glared at him. “Stay still,” he ordered as he continued to heal the cut.

“Fascinating,” Spock uttered, continuing to look over the readings on his tricorder.

McCoy glanced at him and then turned his gaze back onto the next cut on Jim’s body. “You’ve said that surprisingly few times since we started these observations a week ago,” he commented. “What exactly is so fascinating this time?” Jim winced again and McCoy glared once more.

“Exactly that, Doctor.” Spock leaned over and took the salt shaker McCoy was using in order to examine it. “This is exactly the same salt as you used at the start of our observations with the same, as you say, magic imbued into it. However, this is the first time Captain Kirk has winced since we started.”

McCoy opened his mouth to retort but quickly shut it when he realized Spock was right. “Jim?” he asked, hoping for clarification.

“It’s a bit like pouring salt into a wound, I’d say,” Jim answered, grinning. “Though it only stings for a moment.”

“It shouldn’t sting at all,” McCoy mused, reaching for a skin-grafting laser. “Tell me if this stings or not.”

Jim flinched as McCoy used the laser but then relaxed and shook his head. “Feels fine to me.”

“Doctor, if I may...?” Spock passed over his tricorder readings. “This is the time your salt took to work at the start of of observations. This is from just a few moments ago. And finally, this is from the skin-grafting laser.”

“The _laser_ took the least amount of time?” McCoy asked, incredulous of the results. “That can’t be right. You saw how fast salt worked with Stewart when he went into anaphylactic shock.”

“I am well aware, Doctor, however the readings are not incorrect. From what I can tell, your salt is losing its effectiveness.”

The implications of the situation were intense. He couldn’t deny it; he had been needing to work harder to get the same effects from his salt as he had just a few weeks ago. “But... Why? How?”

“We would need to conduct further tests to determine the cause,” Spock explained. “In the meantime, you are well-acquainted with typical medical supplies, yes?”

“But they’re not as effective as...” The argument died on his lips. “Yes, I’m well-acquainted with typical medical supplies.”

“Bones?” Jim asked, sitting up. “This isn’t going to affect your performance, now is it?”

“I hope not, but we’ll have to see,” he sighed. “Spock, do we have time to get those tests done before a major emergency happens?”

“Certainly, Doctor,” Spock nodded. “Captain, if you would lie back down...”

Jim tried to hide his look of displeasure but laid down regardless. “We haven’t noticed it before, so this must be a recent thing,” he mused. “Perhaps something you picked up during one of the away missions.”

“The last away mission I was on was...” He looked up at Spock, realization dawning on his face. “Pyris VII.”

“Doctor...”

“Bones?”

Without a word, McCoy reached into his shirt and pulled out Sylvia’s crystal. Jim looked over it skeptically.

“Picked up a souvenir, Bones?” Jim asked.

“How long has that been on your person?” Spock inquired, taking the crystal in his hand and examining it with his tricorder.

“I can’t get rid of the thing,” McCoy answered. “If I take it off and leave it behind, it shows up nearby ten minutes later.”

“Magic attracts magic,” Spock observed.

“So, the Ornithoid lifeforms _were_ using magic?” Jim looked at McCoy for his response, but the doctor merely shrugged.

“Or something very akin to it,” Spock elaborated. “Unless magic takes on different forms...”

“It does,” McCoy interrupted.

“...In that case, my readings indicate that this crystal seems to contain its own magic. Which would appear odd given that the main transmuter was destroyed and there should be nothing around to give it power.” Spock let go of the crystal. “Doctor, if you would permit me to study that...”

“Take it.” He removed the crystal from around his neck and handed it over. “We’ll see if it doesn’t show up on me again on its own.”

“Very well.” Spock nodded at Jim. “Captain. Doctor.” He left and McCoy focused on taking care of the rest of Jim’s cuts.

“Not used to using standard equipment?” Jim asked. “If you want, I can handle a little more stinging...”

“Don’t you dare. We can’t argue with it; the laser does work faster and painlessly.” McCoy sighed. “But, the sooner I find out what’s hindering my magic, the better.”

Jim nodded and let McCoy continue. At one point he glanced at McCoy casually and then did a double take and jolted. “Bones...”

“What?” McCoy glanced down and picked at the crystal around his neck. “God damn... What is with this thing?”

“I think you should meet up with Spock to examine that so it will be more likely to stay in place.”

“Right... Well, you’re free to go. Be more careful next time.”

Jim grinned, and they both knew how the captain wouldn’t be able to keep that promise. He left and McCoy put away his equipment.

“Doctor?”

“Yes, Spock, I have it,” McCoy answered without turning around.

“Fascinating...”

“The captain suggested I go with you to study the thing this time.”

“A logical approach. Shall we?”


	7. vii

First they studied the crystal’s chemical properties, since Spock was just as keen as ever to pinpoint something magic as something scientific. Granted, Korob had describe the transmuter as something scientific, but McCoy didn’t see how science would keep the thing appearing around his neck every moment he walked too far away from it. Regardless, after discovering the chemical properties, they tried to determine if the crystal could still be utilized with its current input of magic, where that magic came from, and why the crystal was so attached to McCoy.

Their studies were constantly cut short due to some sort of medical emergency that McCoy had to attend to. McCoy could tell Spock was getting annoyed with the constant interruptions, especially when he was right in the middle of an experiment on the crystal when it would suddenly disappear and show up on McCoy. Well, as annoyed as a Vulcan could get, anyway. 

McCoy, on the other hand, was annoyed by the fact that he couldn’t use his salts on his patients. He had brought up the idea of researching why his magic appeared to be dwindling, but Spock had shot him down for some reason that he refused to share. He was a medical doctor as well as a healer, at least, so it wasn’t like he was useless in the Sickbay. But, he was worried what would happen the moment he needed some miracle cure and couldn’t use his salt to create it.

“Doctor McCoy...?”

He looked up at voice, smiling cordially. “Ensign Stewart. How can I help you?”

“I know what you did.”

“...I’m sorry?”

“Back when I had that allergy attack,” Stewart explained. “I know what you did.”

McCoy frowned, doing his best to keep from using an accusatory tone. “What exactly do you think I did?”

“Witchcraft.”

He quirked his eyebrow at that, keeping a calm composure. “My boy, I’m no witch. You don’t see me flying around on a broomstick wearing a conical hat, do you?”

“But you still used magic. There was nothing else it could be.”

“Those 29 other rumors floating around say otherwise.”

“Then, sir, could you tell me what the truth is?”

McCoy pulled his lips together, tight. He considered his answer while holding onto the crystal around his neck. For some reason, it felt heavier than usual. “Suppose I do tell you the truth. What exactly do you plan on doing with that information?”

Stewart frowned at him. “If you’re using witchcraft, then that means you made a pact with Satan.”

He held back his groans. Where the- Where on Earth did that legend start?

“Mr. Spock is the devil, isn’t he? There’s no way he’s really half-Vulcan. That doesn’t make biological sense.”

“First you know everything about magic, now you know everything about biology,” he muttered. McCoy stood up, taking a cautious step forward. “Now, son, I think you’re really blowing this out of proportion. Are you having another type of allergic reaction?”

“Don’t come closer!” Stewart pulled out his phaser and McCoy stopped in his tracks. “I’ll send you both back to hell if it means saving this ship!”

“Stewart, you’re over-reacting to things,” McCoy tried to reason. “You’ve got the completely wrong idea about both me and Mr. Spock.”

“Then tell me what you did wasn’t magic!”

“I...” McCoy gripped the crystal again, unsure what to say.

Nurse Chapel walked in at that moment and Stewart reacted quickly to shoot at her. McCoy thanked God that he missed, and he moved to apprehend the ensign, but Stewart ran out before he got to him.

“I’ll kill the devil first!” he shouted as he fled.

McCoy was quick to help the woman to her feet. “Christine, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Doctor,” Christine answered as calmly as she could. “What should I tell the bridge?”

That Christine, always one step ahead... “Tell them that Ensign Stewart just attacked us. He is hysterical, armed and dangerous, and going after Mr. Spock.”

“Mr. Spock?” she repeated, horrified. She hurried to tell the bridge, but McCoy didn’t stay to hear it.

He rushed out, hoping to find Spock before Stewart did, or find Stewart before he found Spock. The alarm went off and he heard the announcement, though he paid no mind to what was said. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if Spock were seriously injured while he couldn’t use his salts to heal him...

He heard phaser fire and hurried around the corner. Spock wasn’t hit, but the panel beside him was- Stewart was never a good aim when not thinking clearly. McCoy took another step forward, but was nearly knocked off his feet when the panel Stewart shot sparked and then exploded.

“Spock!” he cried, seeing the Vulcan take the brunt of the explosion.

Security arrived soon after to capture Stewart, and one called for someone from engineering to take care of the exploded panel. McCoy hurried to Spock’s side and demanded for someone’s help getting him to Sickbay.

Everything was a blur after that, and he didn’t realize just who helped him with Spock until they were back in Sickbay and McCoy was about to tell them off for loitering until he saw it was Jim.

“Can you handle this without your... Y’know?” Jim asked, glancing over to where Christine was watching.

“I... I don’t know, Jim.” McCoy examined the damages on Spock. Lots of burns, some shrapnel wounds, but he was still alive. “I’ll have to try, but...”

“Doctor... McCoy...” Spock reached up and took McCoy’s hand.

“Spock, you stubborn hobgoblin!” McCoy chastised. “Don’t try to talk right now!”

“The crystal...” Spock continued. “Requires a... power source... You are... that power source...”

“What?”

“It’s been... draining your magic... So you can’t... use your salt... But you can’t use it... From lack of knowledge.”

“Dammit Spock!” He ripped off the crystal, breaking the chain in half. “What am I supposed to do, then? Will I get my magic back if I destroy it?”

“Magic?” Christine asked. Jim shushed her.

“Eventually...” Spock told him. “It will build up again... For now... Do what you must...”

Spock grip loosened and McCoy let his hand drop onto the bio-bed. McCoy hurled the crystal at the opposing wall, and it fell to the floor, cracked but not quite destroyed. He turned to Christine. “Well, you heard him! We need to take care of these burns and get this shrapnel out.”

Christine nodded. “Yes, Doctor.”

It was going to be a long process, but he couldn’t afford to fail.


	8. viii

He did his best to help Spock, but he could only do so much. Standard medical equipment could only do so much where his salt could provide miracles. They managed to get most of the shrapnel out and take care of most of the burns, but some of the injuries would take longer to take care of and Spock was not in a good condition when left him to rest. Better, stable, but not as good as McCoy would like. He sat at an angle in his office where he could still see Spock. He folded his hands in front of his face and just watched Spock breathe, wondering what would happen if he couldn’t save him.

“Bones, you look like someone poured salt in your wounds,” Jim said, walking in and blocking his view of Spock. “I found out just why Stewart attacked you in the first place. And, strangely, magic is the one thing you want to do but can’t right now, isn’t it?”

“Jim, now is not the time.” He stood up to shoo the captain out but paused when he saw Kirk hold out the crystal. “How long have you been hanging onto that?”

“I managed to get it after you threw it at the wall,” Jim answered. He thrust it out again for McCoy to take, but the doctor backed away, trying to avoid it. “You’re going to have to take it eventually. You’re the only one who managed to make a crack in it, and I had Scotty doing everything he could to break it. Broke some of our equipment on it.”

McCoy frowned. “And you had it the entire time?”

“You didn’t see it on you at all, did you?”

“Well... No...” McCoy took the crystal and gingerly examined it. “But, Jim, even if I do destroy it, you heard Spock. It will take a long while for my magic to build up again.”

Jim frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “But that won’t stop you, right? You can still help your patients get back to full health in the meantime?”

He licked his lips nervously and gripped the crystal tightly, trying to crush it in his hands to no avail. “Not as well as I had thought. Spock’s current condition proved that.”

“Oh, come on, you’re not going to let a little thing like this stop you, are you?” Jim clasped McCoy’s shoulders and smiled at him. “You’re the one who always points out that you’re a doctor.”

McCoy shook his head. “There would just be so much more I could do if I had my usual methods. But I don’t have the magic I need to use salt, and the standard equipment isn’t helping Spock as well as I would like...”

“Excuse me, Doctor...?” Christine walked in and handed him a note. “Mr. Spock appears to have written this while you weren’t paying attention and wants you to have it.”

“God dammit, Spock,” he muttered under his breath. He took the note and nodded. “Thank you, Nurse Chapel.”

She stood there for a moment and then spoke up. “I always wondered how you could heal people so well. You use magic?”

“Well...” McCoy glanced to Jim for help.

He shrugged. “You ought to come clean about it, Bones. I doubt anyone else will react as Stewart did, and if they do, they’ll have to answer to me.”

McCoy sighed and looked at Christine again. “I am a Healer, and my medium is salt. I put enchantments on it in order to bring out healing properties and use it to cure people of most things. Not everything can be solved with salt, and for that I rely on other practices, but my best work has been done using salt.”

“You should teach it to rest of the medical staff,” Christine commented as she turned to walk away. “It sounds very useful. If you excuse me, I’m going to make sure Mr. Spock doesn’t continue to overexert himself.”

He nodded as she left and looked down at the note he was given. He read over it a few times, making sure he got it right, and then looked at the crystal. “He’s right... If we could... Jim, we have to get to the chem lab!”

Jim gave him a look. “I’m a captain, not a chemist.”

“I need help with this,” he said, waving the note. He looked Jim in the eye. “Normally I’d get Spock to help, but he’s the one we’re doing this for. I trust you, Jim. Just do as I tell you and it should work.”

“Not every day you get to order your commanding officer around, Bones. Let’s go.”

McCoy explained what they were doing as they went. As Spock pointed out, the crystal held magic of its own, as drawn from McCoy, and they could not use the crystal for sympathetic magic since they didn’t know how it worked. But, the chemical properties of the crystal showed that it was comprised of minerals just like the salt McCoy used in his healing.

And, following the instructions Spock gave them, those minerals could be broken down into a form of salt. It wouldn’t be the typical rock salt McCoy had a tendency to use, but it would still chemically be a salt, and better yet it would have magic of its own. If Spock’s theory held out, McCoy would be able to manipulate that magic into a healing form, but they had to do it right. There was only one crystal and therefore only one chance to make the salt they needed.

When they got to the chem lab, they were met with chemists who insisted on helping them out. McCoy quirked an eyebrow at their presence, but they quickly explained themselves.

“Nurse Chapel said to expect you,” one said. “Between Stewart and the Captain, everyone knows you use magic salt now.”

McCoy gave Jim the angriest look he could muster, but Jim merely grinned smugly and took the crystal and Spock’s note from him, passing them onto the chemists.

“I told you no one else would react as badly as Stewart,” Jim assured him, patting his shoulder. “And even Stewart was just suffering from another allergic reaction and insisted he didn’t mean to attack you since you _did_ save his life with your magic.”

“I’ve got to be dreaming,” McCoy mumbled. He pinched himself for good measure. “How is this not a dream?”

“Through the magic of everyone knowing you’re the best Chief Medical Officer we could ask for and that you’ve saved plenty of more people with your magic than you’ve harmed.” Jim smiled. “Really, Bones, you don’t need to worry. We’re on your side.”

McCoy wanted to retort, but he didn’t want to push his luck. The entire ship supporting him was significantly better than what he thought he was getting with just Spock and Jim encouraging his magic use. He sighed and covered his eyes for a moment before wiping his hand down his face. “When this is over, I need a drink.”

“Hang in there, Bones. We’re almost done.”

“Excuse me, Doctor McCoy?” one of the chemists asked. “Could you give us a hand? The ‘magical’ properties are causing a slightly different reaction than we need.”

Jim grinned and patted McCoy’s shoulder one last time before leaving the lab. McCoy hurried over to help with the process.

It felt like eternity before the salt was finished and McCoy was back in sickbay, examining the glass vial holding the minerals and begging God to let it work. There was a small crowd of other medical personnel who wanted to observe his work.

He threw all caution to the wind and spread the salt over Spock, muttering the proper incantations and willing it with all his might for it to work. The salt dissolved into Spock’s skin and McCoy held his breath...

All the burns and gashes disappeared, leaving what appeared to be healthy flesh. He pulled out his medical tricorder to make sure and let out his breath, smiling. “He’s alright,” he muttered. “Thank God.”

The medical staff all had their grins and a few even cheered. Spock sat up, looking over at McCoy.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Spock said, nodding at him. “I take it you followed my instruction to utilize the crystal as a suitable salt?”

“Don’t get smug, Spock.”

“I assure you, Doctor, I don’t get smug.” He glanced to the crowd and then back at McCoy.

“Alright, you saw me in action, now give him some space,” McCoy ordered, shooing everyone away. As the crowd dispersed, something gold wormed its way in and soon Jim was at their side.

“Gentlemen,” he nodded. “I take it everything is back in order?”

“By my estimates, it will take 3.4 days for Doctor McCoy to have regained his typical supply of ‘magic’,” Spock calculated.

McCoy frowned at him. “Why, Mr. Spock. After all this time, and you still have your doubts it’s magic?”

“Bones, I believe you wanted a drink?” Jim asked, interrupting the argument to come.

“I would love one,” McCoy answered. “Mr. Spock, would you care to join us?”

“Certainly, Doctor.” Spock stood up and the three of them walked out together.

And so, everything worked out better than McCoy had thought it would. From there, he was free to do his service as a doctor, healing people through his methods, salt shakers and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you all for taking the time to read it, and hopefully I can get another story out soon!


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